Quinn 19.
“We’ll treat symptoms as they arise. The front desk will have dietary suggestions for you. Massages and regular exercise can do wonders for mind and body. I’ve also sent a few prescriptions over to your pharmacy. Two of them are for the numbness and tingling. With the steroid you need to watch for increased appetite and mood changes. And I’ll see you back in one month.”
“Thank you.” I breathe a little easier now that we’ve got a course of action. Polk shifts beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. He squeezes slightly, knowing I’m gearing up to ask the big scary question. “Um, just one more question. Uh, I know that MS is different for every patient, but uh, how soon do you think I’ll lose muscle function in my legs?”
“That’s a common question, Quinn.” Dr. Orlosky sits back in his chair, his large desk between us. Steepling his fingers, he tilts his head side to side, “Nothing in medicine is exact, as you both know, however, I feel confident that you’ll need a walker in probably 40 to 50 years.” I blink at him, my mouth gaping like a fish. Polk snorts next to me. Dr. Orlosky leans on his desk, pinning me with a competent but friendly stare. “You will require assistance from old age before you will from MS. We’ve caught this early, Quinn. And with medication and a smart patient who’s going to follow my instructions to a T and a man stubborn enough to go toe to toe with her to ensure she complies…you’re gonna be inconvenienced, but I’d wager your future consists of happily chasing after grandkids.”
I swallow hard, my shoulders suddenly lighter. “ Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely.
“See ya soon.” He stands and shakes our hands. “Any questions in the meantime, call. This is uncharted territory for you, and I’m told I’m a pretty good guide.”
I make my appointment, collect my paperwork, and then Polk and I are walking hand in hand back to the parking lot. He left the clinic to join me, but he has to return for scheduled appointments.
“I’m a little jealous you get to cuddle with fluffy animals.”
Polk opens the driver’s side door to my car with a snort. “Don’t be too jealous, I also have 2 appointments to squeeze some anal glands, a potential tail sprain from wagging too hard, and a dog who ate their owner’s birth control pills.”
“Your life is fascinating,” I deadpan, then start laughing as he draws me into his arms.
“Very.” He kisses my forehead, nudging my head back with his nose so he can kiss my lips next. “You still heading to the clubhouse?”
“Yeah.” I answer evenly, not wanting to upset him. “I’d like to check on Ford, see how he’s doing since I haven’t seen him since he’s been home. And hopefully get some lunch with Audrey. She’s gonna be so mad I haven’t told her about…everything.”
“Quinn, you can talk to me about Ford. He’s my brother, but more importantly, I have licked and nibbled every inch of your body and feel confident that my ownership is apparent to anyone sniffing around.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“Might I suggest, dropping your panties and bending over?”
I lean up and kiss him with tongue, moaning into his mouth when he joins in. “Perhaps another time…and place.” With a wink, I slide into my car and start the engine. He shakes his head with a grin.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.” He shuts my door, slaps the hood and saunters over to his bike. I watch with my bottom lip trapped between my teeth and a faint pulse in my clit, as his scrub pants stretch over his ass when he throws his leg over the bike. God, he’s like a walking wet dream and all mine.
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Ford, but I also haven’t spent any time at the clubhouse beyond dropping off or picking up various children. Last week, we were all together for the ground-breaking ceremony of the Independence Multiplex. Tybalt and Tilly were adorably flustered at the overwhelming reception from the citizens. Many were anxious to sign up as volunteers. Tybs was even a little verklempt when he thanked the Congressionals MC, his sister, and her fiancé for ensuring there was enough funding and then some for the massive project. Ford was unable to attend, still recovering, but I was told that the lobbyists were happy to stay behind and keep him company.
Walking into the clubhouse is like coming home. It’s amazing how much this building and the people in it have come to mean to me. The clubroom is mostly empty, except for a couple prospects, and Ford playing pool with Clay. I smile and give a little wave. Ford’s entire demeanor changes…he’s happy to see me. His face lights up and a broad grin takes over. It’s like the old Ford is back and it makes me immeasurably happy.
“Quinny!” Before I know it, I’m in his arms, my feet dangling. “Missed you.” He tells me, placing me back on the floor. “Clay, I’ll be back.” Ford tries to hold my hand, but I pull it back with a questioning look. “Can we talk?” I nod, unsure what’s going on.
Ford leads me up to his room, closing the door gently behind us. The click of the latch echoes loudly in my head. I’m not in physical danger, I know that. However, I’m suffering some serious déjà vu right now. Last time I was here—
“I love you, Quinn.” Oh, Lord, the room starts spinning and I have to sit down. I stare at him aghast, my jaw dropped, my eyes wide. This isn’t happening. I dig my nails into my sweaty palm…oh, no, this is totally happening. Fuckin’ hell.
“As a friend,” I whisper, hoping I’m right.
“No. More. We are so good together, Quinn. I know I said some unfortunate things to you, but that was the brain cyst. It wasn’t me. I love spending time with you and the boys. Love watching dumb movies and—”
“And we can do that…as friends,” I try, but I see the determined set of his jaw and shoulders. He’s really digging in his heels on this one.
“Naked friends.” He wiggles his eyebrows, not paying attention to the color draining from my face or how I purse my lips to stop from puking. Polk is going to be so mad.
“Nope. Not naked. We keep our clothes on. At all times. In fact, I think we should put more on. Right now. I’ll go get some—” I stand but his next words stop me. The bile turns to fire in my throat, angry, indignant fire.
“You need me! We need each other.”
I turn slowly. He puts his hands up and takes a big step back. Slapping my chest, I raise my voice, “I don’t need anyone. I wanted you. Past tense, Ford.”
“I wasn’t myself—”
“No. You weren’t. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t right to turn me down. I wanted you for the wrong reasons.” He looks like a dog when he tilts his head to the side in confusion. I take a deep calming breath and try again. “I don’t have the soil you need.” Ok, the head is practically touching his shoulder now. “I can’t give you what you need to grow. We’re like Maine and orange trees.”
“You…want…more children?”
I throw my hands up, “Fuck no! And not with you.”
He clutches his chest. “Ow, Quinn. That hurts. I have excellent DNA.”
“And it’s been left in half the females in a 300-mile radius!”
“I’ve given up other women, Quinn. I only want you. You’re smart. And funny. And you take care of me.” And there it is. I decide to focus on the part that doesn’t hurt.
“You’ve…given up women?” He nods so earnestly, looking like a little boy for a brief moment. “How long has it been, Ford?” He glances to the side, breaking eye contact. My boys do the same thing. Fucker. “Less than 48 hours?” He doesn’t say anything, and I snort. “Less than 36?” He hums an agreement. “Well, fuck, Ford, why didn’t you say that earlier? You’re practically a born-again fucking virgin!”
“Quinn—”
“You don’t love me romantically, Ford.”
He thrusts his chin out defiantly. “I do too.”
“Alright, what’s your favorite part? What are you dying to put your lips on first?”
“Uh…”
“My ass? It’s about three times as wide as any of the women I’ve seen you with. My tits?”
“They’re spectacular—”
“I know they’re fucking spectacular; I grew them my motherfucking self! My nipples are distended from breastfeeding,” he cringes quickly, masking it a moment later, “my areolas are like pepperoni fadeaways, and they sag without a bra. Does that get your juices flowing? Your dick twitching with interest yet? How about that I don’t have a belly button?”
He rears back, “You don’t have a belly button? How is that possible?”
“It was removed.”
“Electively?”
“No, you fucking idiot, I had a lower tummy tuck and they took it.”
“Oh. Well…ok, that’s fine. I can live without you having a belly button.”
“How magnanimous of you,” I deadpan.
He rubs his hand along the back of his neck, “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means you don’t love me, Ford, you want a mommy to take care of you. I’m comfortable, like an old pair of sweats. You like me as a friend, but you don’t want to have sex with me.” I step forward, softening my expression, “And regardless of what it means for you, I am in love with Bently Walker.”
“Shut your mouth, you are not.” Such a petulant child. I pity the woman who eventually feels sorry enough for him to claim him.
“He is the most wonderful man I have ever met. Compassionate, delightfully funny, kind but strong. He loves me with everything he’s got and still doesn’t believe it’s enough to keep me. He hates belly buttons and loves my saggy tits. He loves my children, even likes my ex-husband. He’s my rock. I don’t need him, but God do I want him. He wants to take care of me, if only so I can continue to mother everyone else around me. He accepts me for me. He respects me. You don’t. You never have. But it doesn’t matter because…Polk and I are like Ohio and soybeans. We just go together. It’s natural. And fruitful. And he’s fucking hot as Hades!”
“Ok, I get it.” He frumps, dropping to his bed and holding his head up with his hands. He looks sad, defeated and I’m sorry to have done that to him, but he needs some tough platonic-love.
“I don’t think you do, but you will. One day Ford, all this will click for you, and you’ll realize you aren’t the best version of yourself. And maybe you’ll do it for you, but I can tell you from experience, when you meet the right person…you want to be better for them. They deserve the best version of you.”
He glances up at me, “You really love him?”
“I do,” I respond quickly with a broad smile. Polk is awesome.
“And he really doesn’t mind the whole belly button thing?”
“Asshole.”
He laughs, sitting up and leaning back on his hand. “Quinn, I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the things I said, the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve any of it. I can’t take any of it back—”
“Just do better, Ford.”
“I’m gonna try.”
I sigh, swallow hard and tell him, “I have Multiple Sclerosis.” He snaps upright, his jaw dropping to his lap. “When we bumped heads…they did a CT scan, then an MRI, and a bunch of blood tests…found lesions, ruled out a bunch of other things, and…I have MS.”
“Fuck.” He stands up, stepping closer to me, taking my hands in his. “Do you need anything? What can I do?” I smile and tug him into a hug.
“Be my friend.”
“Done.” He rocks us back and forth, humming a tune. “Do you think I can rework that soil thing as a pickup line?” I shove him away from me with a laugh, wiping at my eyes to catch a few stray tears that escaped.
“How about you sit tight, and I’ll send up a few lobbyists for you to practice on?”
“You’re my best friend.” I chuckle, stepping back, but he grabs my right hand tightly. “I mean it, Quinn. I’ve never had a female friend before, but you’re mine and I’m gonna make it up to you. I might not want to see you naked, but your friendship means the world to me. And I’m gonna do better, be better for you.”
“And the world will thank me.”
“Let me drain the snake, then you can send them up.” He releases my hand, and bends into a lunge. Lifts his arms over his head and cracks some joints. Fuck, he’s limbering up. He’s disgusting.
“You better pray your dick doesn’t fall off before you meet your person.”